


The Man Previously Known as the Toad King

by darlingDesires



Category: OFF (Game)
Genre: Gore, Graphic Description, M/M, Mild Language, Mind-bending awesomeness, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change, not much though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-20
Updated: 2017-01-20
Packaged: 2018-09-18 19:55:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9400709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darlingDesires/pseuds/darlingDesires
Summary: That’s when he got an idea. Why hadn’t he thought of this before? Why had an idea so brilliant, and well-thought-out, have gone straight over the scarred, mangled face of his?He decided to give it a shot. And see how badly he could fuck things up.





	

Zacharie held his sword tightly in one hand, the other gripping and clawing at the gaping hole in his stomach. His breath, ragged as it might be, was surprisingly controlled. His eyes were bloodshot from crying as the masked man indifferently tread over to the crumpled, but still standing, body.  _ Remember your lines _ , he thought to himself, as the smiling mask, shaded from the odd lighting blocked by the baseball cap adorning his head.

“You’ve bested me, mi amigo, are you not through? If I am slain, the world will crumple out of existence.” Zacharie eased his aching body to the floor, removing the blood-soaked hand from his wound and reaching over to feel the fur of Pablo. It would stain the near-white fur had the cat not been drenched in blood himself. “Are you not finished with your sacred mission?”

“Not until all of the land is as pure as snow.” The masked man gripped the bat in his hand. Even though a smiling mask separated the two of them, Zacharie could still feel The Purifier’s cold gaze staring soullessly at the pathetic mess of blood. The scent of death began wafting from the nearly-dead king.

The Purifier lifted the bat over his head, bringing it crashing down on Zacharie, and the Toad King was no more.

Nothingness. Not the nothingness of travel. It was the nothingness of nothing, the end of all things, the emptiness after death. That’s where Zacharie found himself, quite familiar with the echoing silence and immovable blackness. Zacharie was tired. He was tired, he was tired of dying, and tired of the script.

That’s when he got an idea. Why hadn’t he thought of this before? Why had an idea so brilliant, and well-thought-out, have gone straight over the scarred, mangled face of his?

He decided to give it a shot. And see how badly he could fuck things up.


End file.
